


“She’s not my type.”

by LulaIsAKitten



Series: First Kisses [25]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 22:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15229290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LulaIsAKitten/pseuds/LulaIsAKitten
Summary: Continuing the series of shorts of possible first kisses between these two. Got a few ideas. Feel free to submit prompts for anything you’d like to see in the comments below or over on Tumblr at lulacat3.





	“She’s not my type.”

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for Kaqu. Thank you for the prompt!
> 
> “I would like to see Cormoran snub Sarah Shadlock when she's trying to seduce him in front of Robin...”

 

“Stop messing with your tie,” Robin admonished Strike in the lift. “Just leave it alone.”

“It’s too tight,” he grumbled. “Stupid thing.”

She smiled at him fondly. “You look good, though,” she said. “Dashing.”

He flushed a little. He glanced at her, knowing he should return the compliment but not wanting to give himself away. She looked stunning in a navy jumpsuit he’d not seen before, all curves and heels and swept up hair. “You look... nice too,” he said, and she laughed. “I wasn’t fishing,” she said lightly. “Here’s our floor.”

The lift doors opened and they stepped out into the corporate party. Robin had been invited by the director at Corporate Guy’s firm she was currently temping for. He’d been flirting with her and she was beginning to suspect he was the target they wanted. She was hoping to get a chance to have a look at the emails on his phone, and a party where alcohol was flowing was a good chance.

She introduced Strike to everyone as a family friend, but then had to abandon him as the target in question, Ben, swept her away to get a drink. She had to giggle and pretend to be delighted, casting an apologetic look back at Strike as she was whisked away. Ben seemed to have been enjoying the free bar for a while already, which looked good for her chances to sneak away with his phone, but he was quite handsy all of a sudden and she was glad Strike was close. She made a mental note to keep her senses sharp and not allow herself to be manoeuvred into any quiet offices.

She spent half an hour sipping champagne and pretending to be absorbed in Ben’s jokes, laughing at all the right places. She worked out which pocket his phone was in, and knew she had a good chance of pickpocketing it from him, but she’d need to work out how she was going to get into it. Perhaps she could ask him to take a selfie of them, and then slip it back into his pocket without locking at... She was just wondering if she might have to go as far as kissing him to distract him, a thought that made her shudder slightly, but that she could tell by his body language would be very welcome, when her attention was snagged by a familiar figure.

Sarah Shadlock, the woman who had been ultimately responsible for the demise of Robin’s marriage. No matter that her affair with Matthew had been years ago. Robin had only found out about it in the last year, and the spectre of Sarah had hung over the end of their relationship. Robin remained adamant that Matthew had lingering feelings for Sarah, and that this was behind his refusal to accept her friendship with Strike. Matthew just could not believe that a man and a woman could be friends.

Sarah had done her best to needle and goad Matthew’s animosity towards Strike, making breathy comments about how tall and dark Robin’s boss was, and was it really just the two of them in the office all day, until Robin had wanted to slap her and Matthew had hated Strike even more. And now here she was, somehow at the same corporate party - and making a beeline for Strike, Robin saw, her heart plummeting. He was making polite small talk and she soon whisked him away from the group he was in on the pretence of introducing him to someone else. Strike had no role to play tonight other than be around as Robin’s backup, as she had sensed Ben could be trouble if she got caught trying to take his phone.

Soon Robin found herself enduring the double unpleasantness of trying to flirt convincingly with a man she found smarmy and arrogant whilst at the same time watching Sarah flutter around Strike, holding his arm, touching him, batting her eyelashes. Worse, she was casting the odd sly glance in Robin’s direction, making sure her overtures were being observed. She wanted Robin to see her interest in Strike.

As if it wasn’t enough she stole one man from me, now she’s trying to take another, Robin thought furiously. Then she caught herself, her thoughts, and gave herself a mental shake. Cormoran isn’t yours to be taken, she reminded herself. He’s perfectly free to get involved with her if he wants to. That made things worse. And the fact that Strike was smiling down at Sarah, amused, and that Sarah was blonde and slim, just his type...

She pulled her gaze from them, and concentrated on the task in hand. The sooner she got her evidence, the sooner she could leave. And if Strike wanted to stay, that was up to him.

In the end, her job wasn’t difficult, as Ben was quite tipsy by now. She suggested the selfie, and slipped his phone back into his pocket for him, unlocked, but cleverly palmed it straight back out again, distracting him by whispering into his ear as she did so. Then she excused herself to the ladies and sat in a cubicle with the phone. As fast as she could, she whizzed though his personal emails, forwarded anything that looked incriminating to the email address she’d set up just for this case, then quickly went to the sent items box and deleted all evidence of what she had done. She deleted the selfie too for good measure, not really wanting him to have her picture. Then she locked the phone and returned to the party, skirting the room to approach him from behind and slip the phone back into his pocket as she grabbed his arm playfully.

She began to make her excuses to go, and got her phone out on the pretence of booking a taxi, texting Strike to tell him she was ready. He was nowhere to be seen, and nor was Sarah. Managing to escape Ben’s drunken clutches without shuddering too obviously, she drifted away to look for Strike, and soon spotted the open door to the balcony. No doubt he’d gone out for a cigarette.

As she approached the door, she could hear Sarah’s breathy, girlish voice and Strike’s deep one in answer. She knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but her steps slowed as she reached the door, in time to hear Sarah drunkenly asking him back to her flat after the party. Robin’s heart plummeted. There was nothing between herself and Strike, there never could be, and she knew he dated. But the thought of him sleeping with the woman who’d broken up her marriage hurt.

“Shall I write down my address for you?” Sarah was asking now.

“No need,” Strike said, and Robin could hear the distant edge in his voice. Intrigued, she stepped a little closer to the doorway.

“Why not?” Sarah asked breathily, and Robin could just imagine her batting her eyelashes, hand on his arm.

“Robin,” Strike said succinctly, and Robin’s heart lurched suddenly at the mention of her name. What did he mean?

She heard Sarah give a little gasp. “So there is something between you two?” she asked, and Robin could imagine this being delightedly reported back to her ex-husband.

“No, we’re just friends,” Strike said smoothly. “But I care about her feelings, and I have no interest in getting involved with you after what you did to her. Good night.”

Robin took a hurried step back. Strike stubbed out his cigarette and turned and saw her hovering uncertainly near the door. “Ready to go?” she asked brightly, and there was a sudden fond edge to her smile.

“Yup,” he said. “Let’s go grab a taxi.” He didn’t glance at Sarah as he stepped through the door, moving away with Robin towards the lifts.

As they stood in the lift, quiet suddenly, Robin felt a little emotional, deeply touched that he would defend her like that with no need to. She felt a rush of affection for him.

“Thank you,” she said, quietly.

“What for?” he asked. He knew, but his ego wanted to hear her say it.

She smiled softly, turning to look at him. “For standing up for me,” she said. “You didn’t have to.”

He smiled too in answer. “I wanted to,” he said. “You never said much, but I got the impression she was still around, trying to stick her nose into your marriage. Doesn’t sound like she’s a very nice person.”

“She isn’t,” Robin said. “Still, I’d have thought she’s your type. You know, physically. Blonde and slim.”

“She’s not my type,” Strike said shortly.

“Really?” Robin said.

Strike looked at her appraisingly. What was this about? She looked a little pink, almost shy, suddenly, as she gazed at him. Was it only fondness in her eyes? He made a swift decision.

“Maybe my type has changed,” he said.

Robin looked at him, confused, and her heart fluttered at the way he was watching her, steady and sure. He stepped closer, too close suddenly, and she blushed, flustered.

“I seem to prefer red hair and curves these days,” he said, and kissed her. Robin made a small sound of delight as his lips met hers and pressed closer, her hands coming up to tangle into his hair, pulling him into a deeper kiss as his arms slid around her slender waist.

All too soon the lift doors opened on the ground floor and they broke apart. There were taxis waiting. Robin hesitated, looking at them. She didn’t want this evening to be over.

“Could we maybe... go for a drink?” she asked, and Strike grinned at her and took her hand. “That sounds like a great plan,” he said.

 

 


End file.
